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A Letter to My Fellow Cancer Survivors

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Health and wellness touch everyone’s life differently. This is one
person’s story.

With a new year comes the traditional opportunity to make
changes in ourselves that bring both us and those around us more joy, peace,
and love. This new year, I have a personal invitation to both cancer patients
and survivors everywhere.

I invite us to let go of trying to return to who we once
were before our treatments, and
instead to embrace and love who we are now. I invite all supporters of cancer
patients to become more aware of the cancer journey, a journey that’s merely
beginning after the celebratory proclamation of the words “remission” or “cancer-free”.

But first, let me tell you my story.

I spent the majority of my childhood days in a dance studio.
I trained in my pointed shoes with blistered and bleeding toes. The pain was overshadowed
by my love for the art and my desire to become a better and stronger dancer.

Not once in my aspirations did I believe that the one thing
I had grown to cherish most in the world could be taken away.

At 16, I was told I had osteosarcoma, or bone
cancer, in my upper tibia. Somewhere in the whirlwind of information and
feelings that come with the diagnosis, I learned that — along with extensive
chemo — would come a surgery that would permanently alter the structure and function
of my once strong and healthy leg.

They referred to it as a “limb salvage surgery.”

Learning to let go of my outlet

At 17, my doctors officially declared me to be in remission.
Being escorted out of the hospital by the team that saved my life was one of
the happiest moments I can remember. My friends, family, and community were so
relieved that I was better.

Then came my reentry into the real world.

I remember walking into the first day of my senior year of high
school — hesitant and without a wig to mask the very short layer of peach fuzz
that had replaced my once long, blond, wavy hair. When the bell rang, I lagged
behind my peers. My leg no longer allowed me to keep up with the brisk pace of
the rest of the world.

After school, I headed to the ballet studio with all of my
closest friends. Watching them perform, it didn’t take long for me to come to
terms with the fact that dance could no longer be that outlet which provided me
with the mental and physical wellness I needed. So, I let it go.

Struggling to connect

The grief I felt for how cancer had changed me was something
I had no idea how to handle. I struggled to connect with my friends. I cried
when they’d go to ballet without me. I did miserably on the SAT and ACT tests, which
I took just months after finishing chemo treatment.

On top of everything, I had developed an incessant sense of
anxiety that just lingered all the time.

Nobody knew, or even anticipated to understand, what was
happening to me. Because remission meant “better.” We all thought I was
supposed to be “better.” I was supposed to be “me” again.

However, through a lot of hard work and unpaved navigation,
I learned that this wouldn’t be the case.

Three questions

Nobody knew enough to be able to tell me what I may
experience, or offer any advice as to how to reenter my old world as someone I
could barely even recognize.

The biggest quandaries I came up against were these three
questions.

The first: How do
I just let go of who I was before?

The second: How
do I learn to love this “new normal” I am now faced with?

And the third:
Where do I start?

Of course, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer to these
questions. All of our experiences are unique. But after talking to countless
cancer survivors, several important themes emerged that I wish I could’ve
understood sooner.

The first is to
understand that a lot of people won’t likely know about or understand the
trials you’ll continue to face after cancer. Know that you’re not alone. And
that you’re not crazy. More people than you could count have felt the same
things. It’s normal.

Articulate, as best as you can, what you’re dealing with to your
cancer support team. And if verbalizing is hard, draw on other people’s
experiences which resonate with you to help them understand. You are your
biggest advocate.

The second is to
utilize your resources. It’s amazing how much people want to help when they
understand that you’re struggling. I found therapists, personal trainers,
college academic advisors, and so many others who took me seriously and opened
up doors that I could’ve never opened on my own. Don’t be afraid to speak your
truth.

The third is to
experiment with the capabilities of your body. Our bodies are often altered
throughout the cancer treatment process. Push yourself to understand what your
limitations and mental barriers really are.

For instance, the first time I jumped off a cliff into water,
I was positive that my leg would somehow obliterate once it hit the water. When
I finally got the courage to jump (and we’re talking maybe 10 feet here), I
found that it was no different than before. Accept what your true limitations
are, but don’t project false limitations onto yourself.

Take what serves you, and leave the rest

The most beautiful thing that I want to share is that,
despite the inevitable and ongoing challenges that come with cancer, life can be
— and will be — not just as
beautiful, but more beautiful and
fulfilling than it ever was. With low lows come high highs.

The community, support, and empowerment I’ve received by
sharing my story have reignited my passion for the beautiful life I live — scars,
limitations, and all. I’m now a certified yoga instructor and find more
fulfillment in that practice than anything else I’ve experienced in my life. It
not only accommodates my leg, but it fills my life with strength, power, and
confidence.

Take what serves you, and leave the rest. Your possibilities
are endless, and you have ample amounts of time, resources, and support to
discover how this “new normal” is so beautifully unique to you. It takes
physical work, emotional work, exploration, serenity, and just as many laughs
as there may be cries. But this journey is what makes us beautiful. It makes us
powerful. It challenges us, and we, as a cancer tribe, challenge it back.

Individually and collectively, we are a force to be reckoned
with.

Sofia Holub is an osteosarcoma
(bone cancer) survivor and a cancer survivorship expert. She’s the founder of SofiaHolubWellness.com, an online platform that leads a large group of cancer survivors
to find health, life, and happiness through yoga, community, and
self-acceptance. You can find her at her website or on Instagram

We won't share your email address. Privacy policy. Any information you provide to us via this website may be placed by us on servers located in countries outside of the EU. If you do not agree to such placement, do not provide the information.

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Your privacy is important to us. Any information you provide to us via this website may be placed by us on servers located in countries outside of the EU. If you do not agree to such placement, do not provide the information.